


Exit Wounds

by charliechick117



Series: How to Fix a Broken Thief [1]
Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Depression, M/M, References to Suicide, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliechick117/pseuds/charliechick117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nori's beloved walked out on him, Nori was convinced he would never feel anything again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exit Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> Very much (entirely) inspired by the song Exit Wounds by The Script.
> 
> WARNING: There is self-harm happening in this. Please be aware. Thoughts of suicide and depression abound as well.
> 
> This is not a happy fic.

Nori couldn't move as his beloved left.  He stood in the front room of his home, unable to force his limbs into action.  The door slammed shut and Nori couldn't do anything.  He was frozen.  Cold as ice.  His eyes were burning and everything blurred as the tears fell.  Nori hiccuped and his head pounded.  He didn't have the energy to wipe away the tears from his cheeks.  His heart was pounding, hard and strong in his chest.  Too hard and too strong.  If it kept going then his heart would burst.

That was how Dori found him.  Standing in the front room, his hands tingling from where his beloved last touched him.  Dori's face broke into something tender as he gently led Nori upstairs.  He tucked Nori into his bed, like when they were children, and brought a hot mug of tea.  Curled around his pillow, Nori sobbed.  Dori hummed under his breath and ran his hands through Nori's hair, soft and soothing.

Nori pushed through his memories.  Where had things gone wrong?  They met months ago, trying to steal the same necklace.  They'd grown close, developing a partnership of sorts, a friendship almost.  Then there was the drunken night of whispered promises and love, and things changed.  They were inseparable.  By day, they ran from guards and teased their captain.  By night, they were a tangled mess of lust and passion.

It was two weeks ago when Nori had proposed.  They were going to be married and bonded, officially.  Nori couldn't imagine a better future.

"I love him," Nori finally spoke, his voice rough.

"I know," Dori replied.

"No, I really love him," Nori blinked back more tears.  "I was going to settle down with him.  Maybe get a respectable job and buy our own house and raise a family.  I was going to spend the rest of my life with him."

"I know you were," Dori rubbed soothing circles on Nori's scalp.  "Ori will be home soon.  Do you want me too...?"

Nori thanked Aule that Dori was his brother.  Dori, who would destroy anyone who dared hurt Nori.  Dori, who was asking for permission.

"No," Nori shook his head.

"Because you love him?" Dori whispered.

"Because I'll always love him."

His heart sparked.  A small shock of electric current, like lightning, that echoed in his chest.  He must be dying.  This had to be death.  How could this be living?  His chest caving in on itself, his body frozen and numb, his heart sparking  and fizzing, it had to be death.  Tears burned his eyes and he hiccuped.  Dori clucked and tugged Nori into his chest, strong hands running up and down his back.

It had been years since Nori took comfort in his brother like this.  His strong, ever loving, ever forgiving, big brother.  His shirt would be stained with tears, but Nori couldn't care.  He couldn't feel anything but emptiness.  Dori hummed and rocked them side-to-side.  When Ori came home, all smiles and lavender knits, he didn't hesitate to drop his bag and join them.  Sitting behind Nori, hands around his waist and head against his back, the brothers stayed.

"I'm sorry," Ori whispered.

Nori was sorry too.

* * *

This was a bad idea.

That was the point.

Stealing Thorin Oakenshield's crown was punishable by death.  Nori scoffed.  It wasn't even a crown really.  Just a small golden circlet inlaid with sapphire.  It was the  _idea_  behind it that made it a crown.  On Thorin's brow it was kingly.  Were Nori to wear it, it would be gaudy and pretentious.  Still, Nori was here in Thorin's private chambers while the so-called king was training.  He would go through with it.

Perhaps he would be captured and executed.

The thought didn't scare Nori like it once did.

It had only been ten days since his beloved walked out on him and Nori still couldn't feel anything.  He had stolen every valuable from every stall in all of the Blue Mountain Market in the past ten days.  He kept waiting for the rush, the thrill of the steal.  He waited for the exhilaration of a successful theft.  Instead, his sparking heart spluttered and his limbs felt like lead and he still couldn't breathe properly.  He ended up returning everything.

What was the point of stealing if you didn't have someone to share you success with?

Which is why Nori was in Thorin's chambers, stuffing the crown into his leather satchel.

He was opening the latch on the window when the door opened.  Nori turned, a knife in hand, expecting the king.  What he saw was the Captain of the Guard.  How many times had Nori and his beloved escaped his grasp?  How many times had they turned their noses at him, scoffing at the way he patrolled the streets?

"Thief."

Enough times that if Nori were captured, he would certainly be killed.

The Captain charged Nori, shackles in hand.  Nori fumbled with the latch, his fingers numb and slipping.  By the time he had the window open, the Captain had his wrists in chains.  He took Nori's satchel, pulling the crown from it.

"This is the King's crown," the Captain said.

"No, really?" Nori's reply was biting.  "Just take me to the prison.  No need to waste your breath or my time on formalities."

"I don't think so," the Captain shook his head.  "Where's your little partner?"

Nori's heart thundered in his chest and his face paled, tears pricking the corner of his eyes.  No!  He would not cry, not here, not now.  His hands were shaking in the shackles, his stomach twisting like snakes and his head reeled.  His chest was tight and Nori couldn't quite get his breath.

"He's not here anymore," Nori managed to say, surprised that his voice didn't break.

The Captain pulled his faithful axe and rested the blade on Nori's neck.  "If you're lying..."

"Do I look like I'm lying?" Nori said, his voice a touch hysterical.  His face burned as a small tear fell from his face.

The Captain huffed and tucked his axe away.  He dragged Nori not-too-gently down to the prison.  Nori let himself be pushed into a cell and collapsed, face first, onto the hay pallet.  The door slammed shut, the locked clicked, and all that was left of the Captain were his echoing footsteps.

Nori turned to his side, pulled his knees up to his chin, and let the tears fall again.

Ten days since his world was turned upside down.  Ten days since his heart turned into a little thundercloud, sparking lightning across his body.  Ten days since Nori's lost his breath.  Ten days since his beloved left him, leaving an exit wound the size of a crater in his chest.

* * *

Trapped on a roof, Nori laughed hysterically.  The entire city guard was on the ground around him, including the prestigious Captain of the Guard.  Nori had a burlap sack on his back, filled with gold coins he'd taken from the bank.  He didn't bother with stealth that time.  Bankers were surprisingly helpful when you had a knife aimed at their heart.

"Sorry, lads, this is mine!" Nori called down.

The guards pulled out their bows and notched their arrows.  A small trill of excitement thrummed through Nori.  They weren't playing by the rules anymore.  Thieves were to be captured alive to be judged before King Thorin.  The first arrow whizzed past Nori's ear, taking a chunk of his hair with it.  The second grazed his arm, slicing through fabric and skin.  The third went between his legs.

"Is that the best you got?" he taunted.

The fourth arrow, shot by the Captain himself, hit him in the shoulder.

The pain was sharp and sudden and Nori was fairly certain the arrowhead touched bone.  That small trill expanded to a wicked joy.  All his senses narrowed to his right shoulder, to the throbbing pain and oozing blood.  His heart wasn't sparking anymore.  There wasn't lightning in his chest and his breathing was full bodied.  Instead, his heart was pouring blood out of the wound on his shoulder and his head was spinning with the adrenaline.

This is exactly what he needed.

Nori dropped the burlap sack onto the ground, gold spilling across the street.  He jumped from roof to roof until he came crashing into his home.  Dori jumped, spilling tea all over the floor, as Nori fell through the window.  The arrow was still sticking out of his shoulder and the pain was excruciating when Nori moved his arm, shooting down his arm and over his collarbones.  He moved his arm again.

"What in the name of the Maker have you done?" Dori exclaimed.

"I got shot," Nori said.

"Yes, I can see that," Dori snapped.

Nori sat on the floor of their kitchen, little wisps of breathless laughter bubbling from his chest.  Whenever the empty darkness started to sink into his chest, he moved his arm, letting the pain bring him back to feeling.  Dori pulled the arrow out, stripped off Nori's shirt, and bandaged him up as best he could.  There was still the pain though.  A dull ache in his shoulder that grew sharp if he pressed his hand to it.

It felt good to have a physical pain.  It had been twenty-three days.  After day fifteen Nori had stopped feeling.  He spent an hour running his hands over his chest, over his heart.  He couldn't understand how something as damaging as a broken heart could leave him without a mark.  His heart had been injured.  It was as though something had pierced his chest and left him in the sun for the vultures.

Yet his body was unblemished and unscathed.  No sign of the pain he had suffered.

It was wicked and wrong, but Nori couldn't help it.  He pushed his thumb into the wound, blood welling up and staining the cloth.  The pain sharpened and shot down his arm.

It felt good.

* * *

When things got too hard.  When things grew too empty.  When Nori's thundercloud heart sent bolts of lightning over his lungs and he couldn't breathe.  When he couldn't feel anything anymore.

That's when Nori brought out his knives.

He would lock his door, blow out the lanterns, and drag those sharp, silver blades over his skin.  He would watch in darkness as the blood welled up from the cuts.  Across his arms and over his legs.

One for meeting his beloved, almost a year ago.

Another for losing him.

Three for Dori who looks at him with pity.

Four for Ori who tried to make him smile.

The pain was sharp and sweet.  He would sit on the edge of his bed, clench his fists and let the blood drip down his wrists.

He would never cry.  He had run out of tears long ago.

* * *

It was Ori who suggested he try to find someone else.  If it had been anyone else, Nori would have a knife at their throat.  But this was Ori who only wanted to help.

"It's been two years," Ori had said.  "You haven't even been arrested for months!  You don't leave the house and..." Ori paused.  "We're worried for you.  We only want you to be happy."

Nori had promised he would try.  He perused the markets for pretty lads and lasses and put on his charm as often as he could.  He smiled and nodded and soon had his pick of suitors.  He didn't like it.  It didn't feel  _real_.  He was putting on a face, an act, hiding behind walls.  He ended up turning them all away.

Yet he wanted to  _feel_ something other than the bite of a blade or the ache in his shoulder.

The first time he was dragged to a stranger's home, he'd been drunk.  He couldn't remember much of that night other than the dwarf lass had cascades of black hair and a neatly trimmed beard and eyes like emeralds.  He woke up alone, hungover, with no memory of any pleasure.

The second time he was more sober.  His partner was strong with a grizzled beard and eyes like flint.  He picked up Nori and threw him onto the bed.  Things were going well until Nori took his shirt off.  Then everything stopped.

Nori knew what he saw.  Thin white scars across his body.  Red scabs crisscrossing them.  A few were fresh and dripping blood.  The dwarf had taken a look at Nori, shook his head in disgust, and backed away.

Cold and empty, Nori tugged his clothes straight and walked back home.  It was late and most everyone was home.  Only a few drunkards were stumbling around in the dark.  Nori took a coin purse from one who came too close.  He dropped it beside a beggar.  Even thieving had lost its appeal without his beloved.

The house was dark and Nori thought his brothers had gone to bed.  He was half right.  Ori was slumped over the kitchen table, a mug of cold tea at his fingertips.  Nori smiled softly and ran his finger through Ori's hair.

"Wha time issit?" Ori mumbled.

"Very late," Nori pressed a kiss to Ori's head.  "Let's get you to bed."

Nori led Ori up to his room, gently tucked the blankets around him, and ran his fingers through Ori's hair once more.

"Nori?"

"Yes?" Nori paused at the doorway.

"We love you," Ori said.  "Me 'n Dori.  An' someday someone'll love you properly."

Nori didn't say anything.  He shut the door and crept back to his own room.  In the darkness he shucked his clothes off, letting them puddle to the ground.  He stood there and looked over his naked body.  He was covered in little scars.  Little white lines of past pain, red scabs that he picked at too often, and one puckered circle on his shoulder where the arrow had hit him.

Two years and his body was close to looking the way he feels.

The blade was cool and familiar on his skin.

Nori should have known this all along.

He was damaged and broken.  His thundercloud heart wouldn't let anyone in.  His chest was hollow and fractured.

Just one more cut, he reasoned with himself as the blood dripped from his knife.  One more reminder that no one would love him.

* * *

The days started blurring together.  Nori would be home, listening to Ori talk about how wonderful his apprenticeship was while Dori cooked breakfast.  Then he would be in the tavern, six tankards of ale gone down his throat.  He would blink and days would pass by.  Sometimes he would sit in his room, flipping a knife in the air and time seemed to drag on and on.The only time when Nori was certain of where he was were the times when he was fighting.

He found the place quite by accident, stumbling along in a haze of misery and alcohol.  Deep in the back alleys of Ered Luin was an arena, far away from prying eyes of proper authorities.  Two dwarves (or men) met in the arena, no weapons and only their breeches for protection, and fought.  Everyone watching placed bets on who would win.  Nori watched for three nights in a row before entering.

The current champion was a man with thick blonde hair and hard gray eyes.  He was three feet taller than Nori and had muscles on his muscles.  He would beat his opponent in seconds and roar over the crowd.  He was the favorite.  Nori took him down in less than three minutes.

Without saying a word, Nori gained a reputation for himself among these brawlers.  He heard the whispers and rumors that followed him.  "I hear he once fought a bear with nothing but a stick!"  "I swear on my mother's grave I saw him stealing from Thorin's nephews."  "Didja know the scars are from all the different assassination attempts on him?"  Nori smirked as the rumors grew in absurdity but never denied them.  It never hurt to have a reputation.

After every brawl, after ever victory, Nori locked himself in his room and weighed the knife in his hands.  Punches and kicks left bruises.  Dull aches the grew and faded with the colors on the skin.  It wasn't as good as the pain of a knife splitting flesh, but it was close.  Some nights he cut through the bruises, letting the blood drain out.  Some nights he pressed his fingers against the purple bruises on his chest, letting his lungs open and allowing him to breathe deeply again.

Fighting, brawling, were like sharp splashes of reality.  There was only one objective in mind.  Beating his opponent.  Everything narrowed down to fists on flesh, the sharp scent of sweat and blood, the shouts and jeers of the crowd.  It was those moments that Nori found himself living for.

Everything else faded away.  He faded away.  He never left his room.  He couldn't let his brothers see him this way.  He wouldn't put his problems onto them.  They didn't know about his trips to the arena and they never would.

Occasionally, when Nori hadn't been to the arena in a few weeks, when he was shaking from blood loss and hunger, he would remember.  He had spent so long pushing his beloved from his mind that Nori wasn't sure he could even remember.  But he did.  He remembered the laughter they shared.  He remembered the hot kisses between them and the elaborate heists they performed.  He remembered running down alleyways, splitting up and running from the guards.

Those nights he thought about how easy it would be to bury his knife in his chest and end it all.  How easy it would be to get captured by the guards and be executed for his crimes.  How simple it would be to throw himself from the mountain top.

Nori was living.  His thundercloud heart was beating, his caved-in chest was breathing, but what was the point?  It had been years since his beloved walked out on him.  It had been years since Nori learned to live without his soul.

* * *

Nori was in prison again.

He couldn't remember the night before.  He couldn't remember the past week, honestly, but Nori was pretty sure he hadn't done anything illegal.  He hadn't even gone to the arena recently.  His hands and feet were shackled and his brothers were outside his cell with the Captain of the Guard and Thorin the-king-that-wasn't.

"What's this?" Nori asked.  His throat was rough and the words scratched his mouth.

"An intervention," Thorin said.  "Normally I wouldn't bother myself with such manners, but Ori is apprenticed under my close friend and adviser so I'm making an exception."

"Intervention?" Nori repeated, dread dropping in his gut.

"We were scared," Ori whispered, his hands knotted in his sweater.  "I was worried that I'd come home one night and you wouldn't be there anymore."

"Or that we'd come into your room to find you dead," Dori said.  His voice was sure but his hands were trembling.  "You thought you were being stealthy, but you weren't.  We saw the scars and the blood.  We knew what you were doing."

The thundercloud heart in Nori's chest sent waves of lightning across his chest and he couldn't breathe.  His vision was clouding and his hands started shaking.

"Your brothers have asked me to keep you here for your own protection," Thorin said.  "Dwalin will be your guard."

Thorin swept away with a nod at Dwalin, the Captain of the Guard.  Ori touched the bars to the cell gingerly.

"We're doing this for your good," Ori said softly.

Nori made a noise in the back of his throat and stared at his feet.  He heard his brothers leave, their feet shuffling over the dirt ground.  He still couldn't breathe properly and there was a thunderstorm in his chest.  He had lost the trust of his brothers.  He had lost their love, the only love he had left.

His hands were shaking and his vision grew blurry.  The emptiness inside him came back full force.  His beloved had torn him apart when he left, leaving an invisible exit wound when he took his love away.  Four years and Nori had learned to block it out, to fill that invisible and empty scar with real pain.  Everything would be fine as long as Nori had his knives to cut his memories in.  Everything would be okay as long as Nori could fight it out.

He had nothing here.  Nothing to fill that aching void in his chest.  Nothing to stop the lighting sparking from his heart.  Nothing to ease his breathing.

His sight grew fuzzy as his breathing grew more and more rapid.  He needed the pain.  He needed the release.  Something, anything!  He pulled his hands apart and the shackles dug into his wrist, hard enough to hurt, but not quite hard enough.  He tugged harder, twisting his wrists against the sharp edges of the metal, trying to break the skin.  His chest loosened with every twist of his wrist.  His heart was still a thundercloud and the small shocks of pain weren't enough to stop it.

Thick hands surrounded his wrists.  Tattoos ran up the fingers and across the back of the hands.  They were rough, calloused, but gentle as they held Nori's wrists still.

"That defeats the purpose of you being here."

Nori glanced up and saw the Captain, Dwalin, kneeling in front of him.  Nori never really looked at him, always focusing on running away, but he took this time to really  _look_.  Dwalin was the Captain of the Guard, and for good reasons.  He was a seasoned warrior, with scars and tattoos and muscles.  He looked at Nori with something akin to pity, but wasn't.

"I need it," Nori said (begged, pleaded).  "I need to feel."

"What happened?" Dwalin asked, his voice rumbling in the small cell.

Nori shook his head.  Dwalin sighed and left, locking the door behind him.  Nori's wrists tingled from where their skin had touched.

Dwalin came back the next day with padding for the shackles.

* * *

Thirty scratch marks on the wall.

Thirty days Nori had been in prison for his own good.

Thirty days since Nori last caused himself harm.

His brothers rarely came to visit.  Ori said he was working hard on his apprenticeship.  Dori said he had opened a tea shop and was needed there until he could afford to hire help.  Nori knew better.  They didn't want to see him.  They didn't want to see Nori like this anymore.  The only company he had was Dwalin.

Dwalin seemed to think that the only way to get to Nori was to talk.  Day in and day out for thirty days Dwalin talked to him.  At first Dwalin only spoke of his day.  He talked about the arrests he made during the day and Nori couldn't help but smirk at how pitiful the other thieves were.  It helped to lessen the crushed feeling in his rib cage knowing that he and his beloved were the best in the business.

Then Dwalin started talking about his family.

Nori learned that Dwalin's father, Fundin, was slain at the Battle of Azanulbizar along with Thorin's brother.  He learned that Dwalin grew up with Thorin's family and was, unsurprisingly, close friends with the king.  His older brother, Balin, was Ori's master.

"Why do you need it?"

Dwalin asked this question every day and every day Nori avoided it.  Dwalin couldn't possibly understand why Nori needed it.  He wouldn't understand why Nori needed the pain and he needed the hurt.  How could Dwalin, Captain of the Guard, friend of the king, understand?  Dwalin never had his existence torn from him.  He never had to watch the one he loved most walk out on him.  He didn't have a thundercloud for a heart and a chest crushed in.

"Ori said you lost your beloved," Dwalin said.

Nori snorted.  He didn't lose his beloved.  His beloved walked away and took all of Nori with him.

"You could kill yourself if you keep hurtin' yourself."

"I'm already dead," Nori said.  "At the very least I'm dying."

He rubbed the scar on his shoulder.  It had long since stopped aching, but it brought him comfort.  He laughed bitterly.  He was dying from the exit wound of his beloved walking away from him and the only comfort was a scar from an arrow shot by Dwalin.  Nori tried not to think about it that much.

"How long ago?" Dwalin asked.

"Four years, three months, seven days," Nori rattled off.

He saw Dwalin do the math.  Four years ago when he stole Thorin's crown.  Not two weeks later when he robbed the bank and Dwalin shot him.  Dwalin's hand stilled on the axe he was sharpening and he stared at Nori with softness in his eyes.

"He was your partner," Dwalin whispered.

"He was," Nori sighed, leaning against the wall.  "And I loved him."

"Do you not love him anymore?"

"I-I don't know."

Dwalin hummed and went back to sharpening his axe.  Nori really wasn't sure.  After four years of not feeling anything, of having lighting storms in his chest and not being able to properly breathe, of blood and bruises to just feel something, maybe some where along those years Nori fell out of love.  Maybe his beloved took the last bit of love Nori had to offer.

* * *

"Have you ever been in love?" Nori asked as he scratched marked number forty-eight on his wall.

Dwalin, who had been reading, looked up at Nori.  It was the first time Nori had started a conversation.

"Once, I thought," Dwalin said.  "She was beautiful and fiery with flaming hair and laughing eyes.  I would have given her everything, but she cared not for me."

"What happened?"

"She ran off with a blacksmith," Dwalin chuckled.  "I would not be comforted when I found out.  Locked myself away for a week."

"Then what?"

"Got over it," Dwalin shrugged.  "It was easy to mistake lust for love.  Especially at such a young age."

"Did you ever fall in love again?"

Dwalin didn't answer for a long time.  Nori looked out at where Dwalin was sitting.  His eyes were distant and he was smiling softly.  It was a good look for him, Nori had to admit.  Dwalin was far too serious for his own good.

"Well?" Nori pressed.

"Yeah," Dwalin's voice was so soft Nori almost missed it.  "I did."

Nori tried not to think about the lightning that sparked over his chest at those words.  This wasn't a spark that constricted his chest and stopped his breathing and made his skin itch for a blade.  This spark went over his rib cage and froze his limbs.  It was a spark of... jealousy?

No.  It wasn't.  Nori clenched his hands into fists so his nails dug into his palms.  He squeezed until he felt blood on his fingers and that jealousy spark stopped.

* * *

Day sixty-two would be forever imprinted in Nori's mind.  That was the day the shackles came off.  That was the day he was brought out of his prison.  That was the day he saw the sunlight again.  That was the day his thundercloud heart lightened up a little bit.

More importantly- that was the day he moved into Dwalin's home.

When Thorin had come and set Nori free, there was a condition.  Nori would not be allowed to live with his brothers just yet.  He was to live with Dwalin, where the Captain could keep a close eye on him.  Nori may be out of prison, but he wasn't free yet.

His stuff was already there, brought by Dwalin himself.  He had his own bed, stuffed into the corner of Dwalin's bedroom.  He had a home-cooked meal, a hot bath, and fresh clothes.  It wasn't until he was lying in his bed that the familiar itch came into his hands.  His skin felt too tight, his chest was still crushed and heaving, sparks of lightning still flashed through his heart.

Nori needed the release.  He needed the pain.  He had gone sixty-two days without it and now, more than ever, he needed it.  This was too close to what he could have had.  A home with his beloved.  Dwalin was a poor replacement for his beloved, but the image wouldn't let him go.

In the dead of night with Dwalin's snores echoing in the bedroom, Nori crept out into the kitchen.  He grabbed the first knife he saw and twirled it between his fingers.  Already, his breathing grew easier.  He rolled up his sleeve past his elbow, pressing the cool blade to the skin, not quite breaking skin.  He thought of his beloved and the pain he's been living with for four years.  He thought of Dwalin and how he was in love again.  He thought of his brothers, how he fell from their love and life so quickly.

He drew the knife across his arm, over his chest, and down his legs.  The pain was sweet and delicious after having gone so long without it.  His heart was a dormant cloud, his breathing eased up, and he felt a little bit at peace again.

The guilt hit him in the morning.

Dwalin had breakfast on the table when Nori finally stumbled out.  He reached for a glass of water, his sleeve pulling up and showing the bright red marks from last night.  Dwalin froze.

"Why?" he asked.  "Just tell me why you need it."

"I can't breathe without it," Nori admitted.  "I can't  _feel_ without it."

"You spent two months doin' just fine," Dwalin said.

"Fingernails," Nori shook his head.  "Palm of my hands.  Not the same, but works well enough."

Dwalin cursed, slammed his fists on the table, and swept from the house.  Nori stayed at the table, breakfast growing cold, and rubbed his shoulder scar.  He waited for the inevitable spark of lightning from his heart, the crushing feeling on his chest, the reminder of how broken he was inside.  Instead his thundercloud heart rained.  A small hiccup burst from him and heavy tears fell from his face.

He'd forgotten what it felt like to cry.

* * *

Nori had been living with Dwalin for two months when he realized something was different.

His heart, his thundercloud heart that sent lightning across his body, didn't hurt as much.  His chest didn't feel quite as crushed as it used to and he could breathe easily without having to hurt himself.  The panic attacks that left him crippled on the floor occurred far less.  The temptation of a cool blade on his tender flesh faded.

It was still there, the want and need for a physical grounding in reality, but when Nori's hands started shaking with need, Dwalin was there, warm hands on his wrists and a story of the most recent thief he caught.

Then Nori started to feel.

It started during dinner, with Dwalin telling the story of how a thief tripped over a stall as he ran off with his goods.  Dwalin was gesturing wildly, talking about the chickens flying through the air and how the poor thief landed in a pile of horse dung, and Nori found himself laughing.  Dwalin's voice stuttered as Nori laughed, but Nori didn't even notice.  This was... this was glorious!  The laughter was bubbling in his chest and he couldn't help as the giggles escaped his lips.  Dwalin looked at Nori like he had never seen anything quite like it before.

That night Nori hadn't even thought of the pain.

His heart grew strong again, the flashes of lightning appearing less and less often.  His chest expanded and he could breathe easily.  Nori felt light.  Something he hadn't felt in years.  If things went right, perhaps he could move back with Dori and Ori.  He would like that.  To be home again and to be with his brothers.  Nori wasn't quite whole and there was still that invisible and ever-present exit wound where his beloved had walked out, but he was coping.

On nights when things grew too hard, when the lightning flashed over his heart and his chest crushed itself, Nori grabbed a sheet of parchment, a piece of charcoal, and drew until his fingers were black.  It was hardly as soothing as the sharp pain of slicing skin, but Dwalin had cunningly hid all the knives from Nori.  It wasn't perfect, but it was enough.

Nori was cooking dinner, something he picked up for when Dwalin worked extra hard during the day.  Without any knives at hand, Nori couldn't do much, but he mastered making stew with whole vegetables and meat Dwalin cut the night before.  His heart was especially light today and he was anticipating what great stories Dwalin would have to tell him.  He had been good for two months.  Perhaps today he would ask if he could go home.

Perhaps he would sneak out and show those thieves what a true master could do.

The door slammed open and Dwalin sauntered in, dropping his axes and cloak by the door.

"Some fool tried to knife me today," Dwalin said, accepting the bowl of stew from Nori.

"I would have succeeded," Nori smirked, pouring himself a bowl.

"He almost did," Dwalin said, leaning against the counter.  "Got me in the shoulder."

"Now we match," Nori gestured to his own shoulder where Dwalin had shot him, so long ago.

"It got me thinking-"

"That could be dangerous."

"It got me thinking about how short life is," Dwalin said, setting his bowl down.  "Remember when you asked if I was in love?"

"Yeah..." Nori didn't like where this was going.  That jealous spark singed across his ribs.

"I don't like thinking about what would happen if I died and he never found out."

"Oh, it's a he?" Nori tried to keep his voice light, but his chest was crushing and he couldn't breathe again and that jealous spark was dancing all over him.  His hands were shaking and he set down his bowl.  He ached for a knife now.  The lightness in his heart was gone and why would his heart grow into a thundercloud because Dwalin was finally going to the dwarf he loved?

Warm, familiar fingers circled his wrists and Dwalin was right in front of him.  His eyes were warm and dark as he loomed over Nori.  Nori's chest constricted even more and his heart was a thunderstorm in his chest, pounding like thunder against his rib and sending sparks of lightning to the tips of his fingers.  Nori was about to protest, to push Dwalin away and ask more about his mysterious love, when Dwalin's mouth was on his.

Sparks flew from his head to his toes and Nori's body froze.

No, no, no.  This couldn't be happening.  This was wrong and this was  _bad_.  His body was screaming for more even as his mind rebelled against the idea.  His hands grabbed Dwalin's shoulders.  He pushed himself against the hard wall of muscle that was Dwalin.  His heart was swelling and he found that his chest didn't hurt quite so much and he wasn't shaking anymore.

But he couldn't do it.

He forced his hands to push Dwalin away, forced his body to make distance.  Dwalin didn't look hurt, only confused.

"I can't," Nori said in a rush.  "This is wrong and I can't do it."

"Nori," Dwalin reached forward.

"I can't do it!" Nori nearly shouted.  "There's nothing here for you.  I'm nothing.  He took everything when he walked out.  There's a big hole in my chest where everything should be because he took it.  I have nothing to give you.  I'm damaged and broken and I'm nothing!  There is nothing here worth loving or having.  Don't you see that?  Can't you see that?  He killed me when he left and there's nothing left to give to you."

There were tears again.  Nori wiped them away furiously.  He wasn't supposed to have anymore tears!  He wasn't supposed to be feeling anything, be that happiness, jealousy, sadness, or love.  His beloved had taken all that with him when he walked out of Nori's life.  It was all Dwalin's fault.  Dwalin was the one who kept telling him stories to make him laugh.  Dwalin was the one who looked at Nori with such tenderness.  Dwalin was the one who took him in when he couldn't go home.

How could Nori not fall a little bit in love?

"I don't see any of that," Dwalin said softly, touching Nori's wrist.  "I see a wily thief who always escaped my guards.  I see a brother who cares more for his family than himself."

"Then you must be blind," Nori sneered.  He tore his shirt off and threw it to the side.  He pointed to a puckered scar on his wrist.  "This is when I burned myself because I needed it and Dori was watching."  He pointed to a set of scars that were actually Khuzdul if one looked closely.  "That says 'nothing' which is what my beloved called me before he left."  A long scar up his right arm.  "This one happened the night I thought I should kill myself."  Another set of runes on his stomach.  "This one says 'disgusting' because that's all my bed-partners saw me as."  A long gash across each of his palms.  "This marks me as thief."  Four thin lines over his heart, the freshest of the lot.  "Four lines of love.  One for my beloved.  One for Ori and one for Dori.  And one for you."

Dwalin crowded up against Nori, kissing him for all his worth.  All the fight had fallen from Nori and he let Dwalin pull away, his hands cradling Nori's face.

"They show who you are," Dwalin said, dropping a hand to trace the scars across Nori's chest.  "A very poor self-image of who you are.  That is how you carry your history, this is how I carry mine." Dwalin gestured to the tattoos running up his arms.

"I can't give you what you want," Nori said.  "My heart doesn't have anymore love to give.  I can't lose love again."

"I just want you to be happy," Dwalin said, his hands running down Nori's sides, grabbing at his hips.  "I would like to hear you laugh again."

"Will you let me go?" Nori asked, his hands dancing up Dwalin's arms.  "I've been good.  Two months.  Will you let me go home?"

"Of course."

* * *

Ori squealed when Nori walked in and jumped into his arms.  Nori swung his brother around, feeling lighter than ever.  Dori smiled and hugged Nori as well.  They had dinner together and Ori spent all evening talking to Nori about what he'd been missing.  Dori's tea shop was absolutely booming and he hired a young girl to help him out.  Ori was nearly done with his apprenticeship and had been given a book of his own to write in.  They didn't know that Nori had been living with Dwalin for the past two months.

He didn't tell them.

That night, Nori pushed his bed into Ori's room.  No one said anything.  They kept quiet in the morning when they saw him sitting at the kitchen table, hands blackened with charcoal and drawings all over the room.

Nori's heart was light and his chest was open.  Occasionally he saw Dwalin in the market and his heart sent a bolt of lightning to his fingers and toes, but it wasn't a bolt of pain, or one of jealousy, it was one of anticipation.

Sometimes he would be drawing feverishly, trying to quell the burning need for pain, and he couldn't quite make it.  Dori did an excellent job hiding the knives and Nori would press his thumb against his shoulder, pushing on the puckered scar there and feeling a small ache in his bones.

He walked the marketplace.  It was nearly winter and a light snowfall had begun.  Nori skin was itching for a pain.  No amount of frantic scribbling could stop it.  His chest started constricting and he felt the very beginnings of a panic attack when the shop caught his eyes.  He stopped and his heart thudded.  An inkist.  He didn't think twice about walking in.

Nori came out feeling light and peaceful.  On his bicep, right next to the scar on his shoulder, was a single word in Khuzdul.   _Beloved_.

The next day he stole a winter hat made from mink skin.

It was a sloppy job.  The stall-owner had seen him take the hat and shouted for the guards.  Dwalin headed the charge down the snowy streets.  Nori put the hat on and ran down the alley and up a wall.  From the rooftop he shouted down at the guards.

"I am Nori, the Master Thief!" he crowed.  "You've grown lazy over the years with subpar burglars, but no more!  Catch me if you can!"

Nori ran across the rooftop, slid down behind a stable, and sprinted for the other end of the market.  He was almost there when a familiar hand caught his coat and pulled him into an alley.  Dwalin brushed his lips over Nori's hands.

"Now that I've caught you, thief, what do I get to do with you?" Dwalin asked.

"You may hear me laugh," Nori said.

Dwalin looked at him strangely.  Nori surged forward, capturing Dwalin's lips in a hot and messy kiss.  Dwalin's hands slid from Nori's wrists to his waist and, seeing his chance, Nori spun them around, slipped from Dwalin's grasp, and ran down the alley, laughing all the while.

Nori knew he was damaged.  His body and soul still ached from the exit wound his beloved left.  He wasn't sure if he had love to give and he knew he couldn't bear it if he lost love again.

But maybe, just maybe, he could give it to this Captain of the Guard.

**Author's Note:**

> Names are the bane of my existence, which is why Nori's betrothed is only referred to as "his beloved".
> 
> I'm not very happy with where this went. I think I made Nori too emotional and weepy, but I needed him to be at some points and I don't know if the ending worked very well, but there it is.


End file.
